by Stefanie Marlis
proffer--to put before a person for acceptance, from the Old French por, pro
+ offrir, to offer--so she dressed, carefully, with allure: flippy skirt,
shirt the shade of blue grass, following through on a gathering impulse. At a
coffee house, she watches a couple against a green wall kiss, and she barters
with God, like a child offering a little toe in exchange, for what she thinks
they have.
ersatz--being a substitute, an imitation, from the German ersetzen,
replacement--he finds a note on the formica table in his mother's script and
when a friend calls can't finish a sentence, having written a check only
hours ago to the crematorium and being left with a sense of her in the room,
hovering over her coffee; the collie's still sitting at her feet, begging.
echo--a repetition, a remnant, from the Greek ekho, Echo, pining away until
nothing but her cry remained--his washing the windows of the rented truck
makes the same sound as doves on wires, at windows, everywhere since Emily's
death, repeatedly descending and ascending, small and peacemaking. As she
was, whose house he has packed up. One bird watching, then another.
leitmotif--a recurring theme, from the Old High German leitmotiv, lead +
motion--on the way, he gleefully told another story about an accident
involving pea gravel. This time, a truckload rained down on a cherried-out
blue Falcon. Yet the movie was too much for him; he couldn't bear a broken
heart, his or anyone else's, which led to an obsession with video games and
science fiction.
shibboleth--a catchword, from the Hebrew sibbolet, a torrent of water--at the
fords of the Jordan one tribe tried to slip across disguised as another and
was caught as they could not say sh. "Any redneck missing teeth and fingers
can weld," he declares. Having grown up along the Mississippi, he's eager to
distinguish himself from those working there on the barges.
rule--an authoritative prescription for conduct, from the Latin regula,
rod--as simple as: whatever you wish that others would do onto you, do onto
them. He entered from behind, twice, a little difficult at first: lots of
lubricant and patience. The next morning, as she went into the kitchen
thinking pancakes, he was already measuring flour, milk, eggs, salt.
imbroglio--a difficult situation, from the Old Italian imbrogliare, to
tangle--at William Faulkner's house, he suggested they get a better doormat.
"All these little stones," he said, "damaging the floors." He has many
talents, but he can't keep things straight, can't manage rent. Knows a
plethora of things, like that rats eat lead because it tastes sweet. So does
he.
quash--to put down or set aside forcibly, from the Latin quassare, to
shatter--as day breaks, shattering into light. Consumed by the variety of
love that breaks us, she's studying Medieval art for diversion, letting
images of ascension pool in her heart, but this morning her questions link in
the way of crystals; while birdsongs unspool (coo-c-o-o), she asks why,
because asking eases.
flit--to move about rapidly and nimbly, from the Norwegian flytja, to
convey--lately, he's become obsessed with Edgar Cayce, although, reading out
loud in the kitchen, he stumbles through every passage. "Herefore," he says,
and she quickly corrects him. She despises her impatience, him conveying love
with each word. Little moths in the flour.
rife--in widespread existence or use, from the Old Icelandic rifr,
abundant--"they're on fire," she thinks, of the slim trailside trees burning
with green flames. A lush, new season! And she's practiced the theory all
week, "abundance thinking." It's true; there's so much of so much: moss,
stars, dumpster agleam with the worst of what an old man couldn't take with
him.
Stefanie Marlis (ZYZZYVA 10) is a copywriter living in San Anselmo. Her new
collection, Rife, will be published next spring by Sarabande Books,
Louisville, KY.
